


Live Forever

by Adarian



Series: Punk [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AIDS Epidemic Era New York, Gen, HIV/AIDS, Steve and Bucky raised a Good Boy, excessive use of Oasis lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 08:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16991922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adarian/pseuds/Adarian
Summary: 1994: Graduate student Bruce Banner is returning to Harvard after spending the summer taking care of his best friend, who has died less than a week before. During a breakdown waiting for a bus home, he meets someone with a familial history of comforting strangers in public.





	Live Forever

**Author's Note:**

> So it's six months ago when I'm first considering writing a sequel to Punk. I realize then if I dip my toe into the 1980s, I'm going to be brushing against the AIDS epidemic and I am Not Qualified to write about that nor did I want to make it all about HIV-Negative people's grief. However, I kept thinking about Jim Wilson and how if things lined up with the MCU, Bruce Banner would be in his mid-twenties when he loses him and damn if that doesn't break your heart. So this ended up being a fic blending the MCU and 616 in order to get Tony and Bruce to meet, give Bruce a much needed hug, and give a nod towards a real important guy in Hulk canon.

**cw: references to suicidal ideation, severe grief, descriptions of living with AIDS, reflections on palliative care giving**

 

_1994_

Bruce stopped the cassette, rewound it, and started it again. He had only bought it yesterday but already he could see the tape growing thin. He had bought it for the bus ride home but he found himself unable to take off the headphones long enough to buy a ticket.

The full album had come out on the day of Jim's funeral, but Jim had hummed that song on and off in the weeks before he died. In his last days, he would smile when it came on the radio and gesture to Bruce to turn the volume up. Bruce didn't ask him why he loved it so much, this stupid song by this British band neither of them knew, with that stupid line stuck in his head as his best friend took his last breath. 

_You and I are gonna live forever_

It stabbed him again and again but at least it felt like something. He had been mourning Jim for years already. He thought he had lived through all the grief he could already but this was a new fresh hell. He was leaving Harlem, maybe for the last time. What was left for him here? And how could he walk these streets, feeling the ghost of his friend beside him, not as he was when they met, but how he was when he lay dying. Frail, broken, his vibrant brown eyes faded. Bruce wanted so much to hold him in those last days, the last three days when Jim was too weak to leave the apartment. But everything hurt. He was all bone now, his once ebony black skin stretched thin and mottled. Every breath rattled him like an earthquake. Every breath shattered through them both as they just waited together, both run dry of platitudes. He had lasted longer than either of them had thought, the drugs buying him a little more time. But not enough.

_You and I are gonna live forever_

Tears streamed down his face again and he tried to sniff them away. He was in New York, no one was going to look twice at someone crying at a bus terminal. He wasn't sure if that made it better or worse. He just needed to get back to Cambridge, back to his PhD, back to Betty, back to his life. This could be just a piece of his life, this shitty terrible piece, and he never had to feel this way again. All he had to do was turn off the tape, walk to the counter, and buy a ticket home.

He glanced up, seeing the ticket attendant arguing with a guy his age. Bruce looked back down and eventually felt a hand on his shoulder. Bruce looked up to see the guy standing in front of him. The man tried to talk to him but realizing he wasn't hearing him, gestured for Bruce to take off his headphones. Bruce did so and turned off his Walkman.

Bruce muttered, "Look, I'm not really in the mood to do whatever it is you're looking for, so if you could just leave me alone, I'd appreciate it."

"Well, I was just going to ask you if I could borrow a twenty since I seem to have lost my wallet somewhere. But you seem to be even worse shape than me. You know my nephew gets the same look whenever he's upset," the stranger said. "What are you listening to? It's not the Smiths, is it? Because I've had to buy Peter _Strangeways, Here We Come_ three times in two months after his first girlfriend dumped him. The way you're going, you might beat his record."

Bruce muttered, "Please, just leave me alone."

The man plunked down beside him with a sigh. "See, I would, but I have this annoying little voice in my head that says if I do, I'm going to regret it. Come on, it's three am. The only people waiting for a bus on the outskirts of town are either lost, drunk, or thinking about jumping off a bridge. You're heading up to Boston, right? You heading back home or ditching New York?"

Bruce understood the stranger wasn't going to leave him alone and finally said, "I'm a grad student at Harvard. I'm going back for the Fall semester."

"Harvard," he replied, clearly impressed. "I went to MIT myself ages ago but I took a few classes there. Good school. What are you studying?"

"Physics."

"Just physics?"

Bruce sighed, reaching for his headphones again. "What's your name?"

"Tony. Yours?"

"Bruce. It was nice to meet you, Tony. Now please leave me alone."

Tony blurted out, "Someone died, right?"

Bruce frowned as Tony confessed quickly, "I know it's not my business but about three years ago my parents died and I didn't exactly make the best decisions after. Apparently I got drunk a lot and ruined a lot of parties. I don't remember. You definitely are behaving a lot more civil just spending hours crying at a bus terminal and listening to the same tape again and again, but I did just have to convince the nice girl behind the counter that you probably weren't going to off yourself and I'd make sure you'd get home okay. So...I'm probably not the best person to talk about this, but I'm not the worst. You lost someone, right?"

Bruce really wanted to just ignore him and walk away, but his legs felt like lead. He was so exhausted he could barely move at all, never mind shove Tony away like he wanted to. Instead he burst into tears again and started immediately apologizing.

Tony reached into Bruce's jacket pocket and took his wallet. "I'll pay you back later. I'm getting you back to Boston."

Bruce nodded, shaking as Tony purchased their tickets. Tony offered him his hand and Bruce let him help him to his feet. Tony slipped the wallet back into his jacket and picked up Bruce's suitcase. Bruce followed behind him, each step feeling heavy, like he was carrying Jim with each one.

They were the only two people on the bus, but Tony sat beside him anyways. Bruce looked over at the man who seemed just as energetic as Bruce was depressed. He just couldn't tell if it was anxiety, excitement, or just plain mania. Still, Tony said nothing until they were on the road and even then it was just asking him if he wanted one of the sandwiches his uncle had packed him. Bruce said no, but he handed him one anyway and Bruce ate it greedily. He hadn't eaten or slept since the funeral. It was only hitting him then how hungry he was.

"You got someone waiting for you at the station in Boston?" Tony asked.

Bruce shrugged. "I'll get a ride to my girlfriend's. I gave up my apartment for the summer so I've got to wait until my sublets move out this weekend."

Tony said nothing for a time and then offered, "You want more space? I can move over a seat if you want to stretch out."

Bruce shook his head, his eyelids growing heavier. "No, no, you can stay."

Tony picked up Bruce's Walkman and put on the headphones. He pressed play and he chuckled, listening for a few minutes before giving it back.

"Peter would hate that," Tony commented. "Definitely not buying that for his birthday. You want to see pictures of them? People always pretend they hate seeing pictures of people's kids, but everyone likes cute kids."

Tony hesitated. "Wait, I don't have my wallet, do I? Never mind. You'll have to take my word for it. Cute kids, all four of them. Maybe not Peter though, he's turning fourteen so he's pretty terrible right now."

Bruce thought of Sam, Jim's nephew. He was the only person in Jim's family who had come to the funeral. He wasn't much older, maybe fifteen now. He had made sure Sam had gotten home okay, right? He wouldn't have forgotten about Sam. Jim would have been so pissed if anything happened to Sam.

Tony's face fell a little. "You got dark again, Bruce. Did I say something?"

Bruce shook his head. "No. I'm just tired. I've been up for almost thirty hours. I just got to remember to make a call in the morning."

Tony whistled. "Thirty? That's impressive. Even when I was doing coke I didn't stay up that long. You pull those all nighters all the time at Harvard?"

Bruce gave a weak smile. "No, not really. I'm not much of a partier."

"You think you can sleep now? You've got a good five hours on the road ahead of you. I'm not going to keep pestering you if you can get some rest."

Bruce considered it, but ended up shaking his head. "No. Not yet."

Bruce glanced over at Tony again. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Tony replied honestly, "Because this is sort of what my family does, bothering people crying and making sure they get out of things okay. Not me, normally, I'm a coward, but you looked pretty pitiful there and I figured I could take you in a fight if I needed to. It's New York, after all, you never know who's going to kiss you or take a swing at you."

Bruce took his Walkman back and held it in his hands gently. He looked down at it and the warping tape.

"I came to Harlem when I was eighteen," Bruce said quietly. "I didn't know anyone, it was just a cheap place to hide out for awhile. That's when I met Jim."

Bruce looked over at Tony and the man shrugged. "If you want to tell me, tell me, but you don't have to. But I'll say that I was pretty much raised by two guys. If you're worried about me judging you for being gay or something, you don't have to worry about it. I've got a lot of faults but I'm not a homophobe." 

Bruce shook his head. "It wasn't like that. Jim was my friend, but more than that. He was my brother. I had nothing when he found me and he became my everything. It wasn't like that for him though. He had so many people who loved him. Jim was the sort of guy who took care of everyone and everyone looked to him. But in the end...you know, there was this guy Jim knew when he was young. I can't remember his name for the life of me. Well, anyways, the guy was in his eighties and lived alone and died alone. Jim always swore he wasn't going to fade away like that but he did. He was just thirty but it took him almost four years to die. I used to phone him every Sunday and usually there were a dozen people in his apartment and I could barely hear him over the noise. Over the months it got quieter and quieter. Then in April there was no one. I barely got through my exams before catching the first bus here. Then it was just us for months. I sat with him, waiting for him to die. I was so worn out by the end, you know? I spent months watching Jim die and I was just helpless to save him. I tried. I tried so hard. I tried everything, but I just..."

"Cancer?"

Bruce swallowed hard. "AIDS. I found out he was sick when he got the shit beat out of him at a die-in and he phoned me to watch his cat while his ribs healed. He had known for months and hadn't told anyone, but he just wanted to make sure his cat got fed. As more and more people found out...I never asked Jim how he got it, if he was...I didn't care. I just wanted every moment I could get with him, even the worst ones. A lot of people showed up to the funeral, but I was the only one with him when he died. At home, like he wanted, but..."

_You and I are gonna live forever_

Tony said nothing for a long time then finally admitted, "I couldn't have done that, what you did. That's...that's really...I'm so sorry, Bruce. I shouldn't have pushed you."

Bruce shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "It's okay. I...I guess that's not what you were expecting to hear. I'm sorry I dumped this all on you."

Tony assured, "You did nothing wrong. I'm the asshole who made you stop listening to your depression tape. You should be sobbing in peace right now and not having to deal with me."

Bruce confessed, "I'm not used to being alone, not after being beside him constantly for months. It's good to have someone beside me, even if it's just a really noisy stranger."

Tony smiled. "Noisy asshole, you mean."

Bruce gave a weary smile. "That too."

At some point Bruce fell asleep, only for a few minutes, but he woke on Tony's shoulder. They talked for awhile and Bruce fell asleep again. Things continued like that until the bus finally pulled into the station, just as the dawn was breaking. 

They got off the bus and entered the terminal. Tony borrowed a pen from the counter and wrote a phone number on the back of his bus ticket. He offered it out to Bruce.

"Call me whenever you're ready," Tony said. "I still owe you twenty bucks."

"You okay for getting to...wherever you're going?"

Tony teased, "Can't believe you never asked. Guess you're going to have to phone me to find out. I'll be back in New York by Tuesday so don't leave too many voicemails or none of my dates can complain about how much they miss me."

Bruce took the ticket from him and put it in his breast pocket. He offered out his hand to Tony but Tony instead brought him into a bear hug. Bruce held him tightly in return, burying his face in his shoulder.

"It'll get easier. Not really better, but easier," Tony promised. "I got through it okay. One day you're going to be the hungover guy on the bus comforting some other saintly scientist and you're going to do it much better than I did. You phone me if you need to talk, okay? I couldn't have gotten through it without drunkenly phoning my Uncle Steve and sobbing every night. I promise you that you at least won't have to deal with Irish Catholic guilt."

Bruce pulled away and they held each other at arm's length for a breath before Tony let go and patted him on the back. He went to the taxi stand and within moments he was gone.

Bruce went to the payphone and called for Betty. She was half-asleep but she still agreed to come and pick him up. He went out to the street to wait for her and sat down on a nearby bench. The sky grew brighter as he put his headphones back on and pressed play once more. He had made it through one dark night of the soul. Now he just had to survive long enough to face the next.

 _Maybe I will never be_  
_All the things that I wanna be_  
 _Now is not the time to cry_  
 _Now's the time to find out why_  
 _I think you're the same as me_  
 _We see things they'll never see_  
 _You and I are gonna live forever_

 


End file.
